


Your Cooperation is Required

by SqueakyClam



Series: Tinnitus [2]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Arguing, Basically everyone in Dirtmouth, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Humor, I'm Bad At Tagging, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sharing a Body, Somewhat, The Knight is Called Ghost (Hollow Knight), We're all stuck here together, a lot of it, and some others but they're only mentioned!, and we're going to make this each other's problem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29343327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SqueakyClam/pseuds/SqueakyClam
Summary: [A direct continuation of "A Nagging In the Back of My Mind"]When the new Shade Lord awakens in Dirtmouth, ready to embrace a peaceful life as a God - as much peace as they'll get with their new combined consciousness - they remember something quite important.Their charms....Those are missing.Also... oh, boy! I don't remember the void being THIS loud! Where is that laughter and talk of grubs coming from?
Series: Tinnitus [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2155308
Comments: 47
Kudos: 94





	1. Back Into the Fray

**Author's Note:**

> you absolute fools. what have you done? you've gone and enabled me. you went and you said "this? good" and you should know better. because now look what's happening. suddenly, there's more. suddenly i am sitting here like "ehehhehe stupid bugs" and now I'm just. Why. Guys? GUYS
> 
> REAL talk though I've been lowkey wanting to continue this for a while! And seeing interest in it just,, kinda solidified that it would happen at some point! SO HERE I GO

They couldn’t remember closing their eyes, but they must’ve fallen asleep eventually.  
For the next thing they knew, they found themselves awakening, blearily blinking sleep out of their eyes.

At first, there was a moment of blissful ignorance. They couldn’t remember any of what had happened the previous night. Some fighting, some hemolymph spilled… A _lot_ of voices… but that was nothing new, really. That had easily become part of Ghost’s day-to-day life whilst they roamed the twisting caverns of the ruined kingdom.

Hmm. Lazily shifting their gaze about, they recognized the town of Dirtmouth. It wouldn’t be the first time they had fallen asleep on the bench of this lonely place, with the soft glow of lumaflies above them and the serene sound of wind coasting by.  
Yet, oddly enough, they found themselves on the ground. Perhaps they had fallen off the bench? You’d think that would have awoken them, from the sheer impact. If not from the movement of _falling._

How strange! It seemed as though they were standing, too, with how their eyesight was more elevated than usual. Had they… slept standing up? Could… Could they do that?

They blinked again, becoming all too aware of all _eight_ of their eyes.

Oh, wait a second. Now they remembered.

They’re no longer a vessel, nor anything so meager. 

They are the entire void. The Lord of Shades. Minds united.

Huh. That’s nice.

…Wait-

_“And so they finally awaken!”_

No. _No_. Please. They had hoped it was a nightmare.

_“Have you enjoyed that little rest of yours? So rudely falling asleep during the most crucial part of my speech! I’ve never been so harshly disrespected in my life.”_

_“…Did you sleep at all?”_ Ghost questioned, allowing a trace of worry to seep into their tone. They weren’t sure just _how_ much they cared for Zote’s wellbeing, but if he was adamant about not sleeping… Perhaps that would explain why he was always so cranky. A lack of sleep and restlessness can do that to somebody.

_“Oh, trust me, the moment you drifted off, I would have simply loved to.”_

_“…And why didn’t you, if I may ask?”_

_“Have you not noticed?”_

Ghost was entirely confused, glancing around them to see if anything was out of place. The Dirtmouth residents still slumbered away in their respective homes, though Ghost could just faintly make out the sound of Sly tidying up his shop. They could hear _more_ sleeping bugs than usual, as they suspected some had traveled to Dirtmouth once the Infection had been eradicated… but none were particularly loud.  
As for the surrounding area, nothing was damaged. Nothing had changed. Tranquil as always, that quaint little place.

Although, Ghost _could_ hear what almost sounded like someone snapping their fingers.

_“No, no, you dense cur! Tune in! Pay attention!”_

Not too fond of being insulted, Ghost was about to start their rebuttal when it hit them.  
A cacophony of mingling voices came crashing down upon them like a wave, drowning out everything else. They forced down a gasp – knowing _their_ voice could very well shake the earth – and desperately tried to hold themselves steady. It filtered in as static, then grew louder, _louder, and louder;_ until it was unbearable. They focused as hard as they could, trying to sort out one sound from another, and managed to completely distance themselves from reality in the process.

No longer could they hear the flutter of lumaflies, nor the gusts from the cliffs. The soft snores of resting bugs fell silent.

Instead, their senses were bombarded by millions of minds all chattering in unison; all overlapping and suffocating one another. None of them recognizable, yet they all felt somehow familiar. As if a deep connection resonated within them all, tying them together as one.  
Aside from the void essentially becoming a singular being.

What once had been whispers had now become shouts. The former vessels had found their voices, and now refused to let them go to waste! As though they believed that one day, inevitably... those voices would be lost once more, and they would be doomed to suffer in silence for another century.  
They had to make the _most_ of their restored calls and excitement! To vocalize, to articulate their thoughts aloud, to _have_ thoughts of their own… What a brilliant new world!  
And who knew when the _next_ monarch would come around and abuse the void for its resourcefulness?

This might have been manageable if it were, say, ten or twenty lost souls.  
That was not the case.  
Hundreds, thousands, _millions_ of cast down children, all clambering over one another for a chance to say how they _felt._ They _felt!_ This was all so new to them, as near to none had been given a chance to _live,_ let alone experience emotions. Joy, fear, sadness, anger – They wanted, they _wanted, they wanted!_ And they wanted to _express_ that want!

Ghost found themselves clutching their head, hissing in pain as it was nearly overwhelming. lt’s not as if they didn’t understand the vessels’ newfound sense of freedom. They, too, wish to broadcast every thought they’d ever had. They wished to scream their pain, to relinquish their sorrows, to weep about their fears, but this… this was _far_ too much.

_“Alright, alright! Silence, all of you!”_

One upside about Zote is that he was _very_ used to having a voice.  
With this, it was far easier for him to convey what he wanted. The void fell silent at his demand.

Almost.

A bout of giggles erupted from somewhere in the shadowy depths.

 _“Must I repeat myself?!”_ Zote’s overpowering sense of _control_ nearly had Ghost staggering. Granted, from what Ghost understood, Zote _was_ the oldest sibling… but that did _not_ give him any authority here. _“You dare go against my commands?! Face me, knave! Show yourself so I may show you your place!”_

Oh, Gods, no. Ghost had to put an end to _that._

_“You are not in charge, Zote.”_

_“Hah! I am when you’re not!”_

_“This was never established.”_

_“Oh, wasn’t it? You were the one who chose to put your guard down! Leaving me, the brave and courageous Zote, to take the mantle of leader whilst you were weak and vulnerable.”_

_“No. That’s not how this works.”_

_“Have it your way, then! I wish you luck in your endeavors of rallying these children, for I can assure you, it’s no easy task.”_

Ghost let out a long sigh, massaging their temples as the tension headache began to simmer. The moment Zote stopped talking, voices began to pipe up again, though noticeably quieter. Ghost took a moment to pick apart the voices, trying to get an idea of what they were working with.

The vast majority of the void was made up of discarded vessels, all carrying the minds of children… Save for Ghost themselves, Hollow, the stray few that survived the Abyss, and Zote.  
The latter was debatable, really. Hearing this passing thought, Zote responded with a _very_ irritated huff and a string of insults.

Regardless, the rest could be found exercising their curiosity, coming up with stories – _many_ of which seemed to mimic Zote’s tales of heroism and glory, leaving Ghost to only _wonder_ where they picked _that_ up from – and holding one another’s hands as they explored the void sea.  
Not that it had much for sightseeing.

One vessel that was evidently active now was the Broken Vessel, as Ghost had once termed them. They spoke, but solely in whispers still… A quick look into their memories, and Ghost was flashed with bright orange glows, the shrieks of the Radiance, and the agonizing _pain_ that the Infection had in store. They quickly pulled away from the Broken Vessel’s mind, reeling with their own traumatic flashbacks to their battle with the Light Goddess. Said vessel murmured an apology, leaving Ghost to comfortingly shush them, letting them know that it wasn’t their fault.  
They’d have to name that one, soon.

...They’d have to name a _lot_ of vessels, soon.

On the note of the Radiance, the Hollow Knight, or Pure Vessel, chose to keep to themselves. Their shade was far larger than those of the rest of the vessels, as they were given the chance to molt, but seeing as they tended to hide away in the corners of the void… they were a tad hard to spot. They spoke nothing, tried to mute their mind, and they forced down any feeling that dared bubble to the surface. Ghost knew there was little point to this now, seeing as their Father was no longer around to punish their “misbehavior,” but old habits die hard… and Hollow clearly wasn’t letting this one die anytime soon.

A small portion of the sea was of the wingsmoulds, which had little to speak about. They mourned the loss of their protective shells, but seeing as infighting within the void was nigh impossible, they supposed they had little to complain about. Instead, they kept to the borders of the void and merely watched the chaos unfold.

The kingsmoulds were similar, though were plenty more active. A couple were trying to keep an eye on the children of the void, falling into old habits of barking orders and “patrolling” the vast expanse of darkness. Ghost appreciated what help they could get in managing the younger ones, though found themselves irrationally wary; again, infighting was nigh impossible, so no one was at risk of being harmed… but Ghost’s memories of the kingsmoulds’ hard-hitting swipes were hard to ignore.

To Ghost’s surprise, there was a startling number of vessels that were sharing stories of the world outside of Hallownest. Some lucky few that had long escaped the confines of the kingdom, venturing beyond the borders and through the perilous wastes. They spoke of faraway lands, undiscovered treasures, creatures, plantlife… This sparked a sense of wonder in those that never rose from the Abyss, as they began expressing interest in beginning their own expeditions.

Ghost felt a sense of warmth from those small exchanges. They were acting… Well, as children should. The vessels were denied a childhood at birth, given the cruel ways of their Father… The memory of which caused a good portion of the void to hiss and spit.  
It was quite interesting, actually, to see the divide amongst His creations. Some spoke joyfully of His dazzling light, describing it as something they would still chase after and long for, while others grew hostile at the mention of Him, as if speaking His very name was an act of treason against the void.

As for the more talkative vessels…

_“Holding a grudge is a form of dwelling on the past, something one should never do.”_

_“…’Beware the Jealousy of Fathers’…”_

An aggravated scoff. _“Do_ not _quote my precepts back to me!”_

Ghost was just about to retort with another one of Zote’s precepts, _“Never Forgive,”_ which _very_ much implied holding grudges, until they were blindsided by a shriek of laughter.

_“Who--?”_

_“Ah! Yes,_ them. _They woke up whilst you were slumbering. I so wish that wasn’t the case, for ever since they woke up, it’s been nothing but laughter and talk of grubs! Grubs! As if anyone would don affections for something so lowly. Or don affections at all, for that matter.”_

_“…And yet you value compassion.”_

_“I value no such thing.”_

They’d have to call out Zote’s blatant hypocrisy later. Instead, they turned their attention toward the source of the chuckling, finding themselves mildly intrigued by what they saw.  
Or… sensed, as seeing much of anything was rather difficult.  
A mass of void, sporadically flailing its “limbs” about their surrounding area. Ghost momentarily theorized that this could be a particularly aggressive cluster of void tendrils, until they made out a shape. It vaguely resembled that of a kingsmould...

_“Oh, the Collector.”_

_“What?”_

_“That’s who they are. They used to live in the Tower of Love... And they, as you’ve already gathered, hold a peculiar fascination for, uh… grubs.”_

_“Oh, perfect. A lunatic! Just what we needed.”_

_“Be nice.”_

After scolding Zote for his trademark rudeness, Ghost extended their reach toward the Collector, finding them surrounded by a multitude of inquisitive vessels. Every now and then, one of the children would speak up, asking a question on one of the various creatures of Hallownest. This would lead to a joyous cackle before the Collector began rattling on and on about the suggested insect, detailing everything down to the very specifics of their anatomy.  
It would be impressive if they didn’t cut themselves off with their own deranged laughter every couple of seconds.

_“Collector?”_

The entity snapped to attention, widely looking about themselves to find the source of the voice. Zote chimed in to warn Ghost that they would _not_ be able to communicate with the Collector, but they chose to ignore him.

_“Hello! Hello? Hello?”_

_“Yes, hello. I had figured you were a being of void, but I hadn’t expected your—”_

_“Ah, yes! Yes! Void! You are of void, we are of void! Isn’t it a wonderful thing? A splendid thing, a merry thing… How it gives life, sustains it! Beautiful, beautiful! I wish to share its wonders! The grubs- My grubs! My loves, lovelies, where have they gone? Do you know? I was there, I was- I was in my tower, they were there, my map- my map! You have it, don’t you? Do you? I see it lurking in your memories! Oh devilish thing, you stole my map! Give it, give it, now! Where are they? Have you freed them? Oh, you have, have you? Ohhh, no longer protected, my loves! Woe, woe is they, woe is me!”_

They simply… kept talking. Babbling on and on, hardly giving themselves a moment to breathe. Ghost was baffled, letting them ramble endlessly to themselves, seeing little point in trying to interject. Zote said something along the lines of an “I told you so,” but even _that_ was nearly drowned out by the Collector’s incessant noise.  
The vessels around them – one of which, Ghost recognized… hadn’t they seen their body in Greenpath before? – only listened, wide-eyed, before turning to Ghost, asking for the map.  
Clearly, they were hiding it somewhere, and clearly, it was of utmost importance. So, where was it?

Ghost meekly shrugged, not having the faintest idea what had become of their belongings. Their charms were gone, their geo, their many items… 

...Wait.

Oh, _no_ , their charms!

Ghost suddenly lost all interest in what was happening amongst the void creatures. They peeled themselves away, reentering the real world and horrendously dizzying themselves in the process. They regained control of the body, pushing themselves up onto their hands and towering over the many homes of Dirtmouth. 

_“Hoy! What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?!”_ Came Zote’s startled shouts, as the voidlings shared in his confusion. As of one moment, the sea was nicely settled, hardly rippling despite the frantic nattering... And as of the next, they were abruptly disturbed by a jolt and shift, leaving many vessels to scatter into the void depths. This surge of commotion left Ghost to garner yet another dull headache.

_“I’ve no idea where my charms are!”_

_“And?! What use are these impractical accessories?”_

_“No, no, my charms… Grimmchild, oh gods, where could they be?”_

_“What in Wyrm’s name is a-?”_

_“Quiet!”_

Ghost had never raised their voice before. Then again, they had never spoken before yesterday. Regardless, their sharp tone caught Zote off guard, and managed to silence him for just a moment.

Struggling to smother their panic, one of those sick new emotions, Ghost hastily raked through their memory. They had their charms tucked beneath their cloak as they battled the Gods of Godhome, and once they had awoken, deep below in the pits of Hallownest… They were nowhere to be found. They had shed their old form and become something far grander, and somewhere in that transformation, their charms were lost.

Some of those charms could bring about life! Aside from the Grimmchild, there were the weaverlings, and the hatchlings birthed by the Glowing Womb… Oh, Gods, had Ghost sentenced them to death by doing this? Were the charms destroyed, thus destroying them? 

They had to find out. They had to find their charms. 

_“We’re going back down into Hallownest.”_

_“No, we are not!”_ Zote protested. _“We just returned to the surface! I will_ not _be dragged down with you in your frivolous search for your glorified ornaments!”_

_“They’re more than that! I don’t expect you to understand, but just – trust me on this, alright?”_

_“What, is it sentimental value, or some commiserable thing like that?”_

_“I’d really appreciate if—”_

_“Because if that’s the case, I’ll comply. On ONE condition.”_

_“You don’t have much of a say in what happens, Zote. I’m not sure why you think you can make demands here.”_

_“Hmph. What a tyrant you’ve turned out to be.”_

For some reason, that struck a nerve. Ghost wasn’t too keen on being compared to any monarchs. He hadn’t added any adjectives synonymous to “Pale,” but…

_“…Fine. What’s your condition?”_

_“Life-Ender. My nail. I require it.”_

_“…Seriously?”_

_“Oh! So you may judge my wants, but I shan’t judge yours?”_

_“I’m not judging.”_

_“You had a judgey tone.”_

_“That’s… alright, whatever, I’ll ask Bretta for your nail when we get back.”_

_“No. We’re not leaving without it!”_

_“What part of you not having a choice are you not understanding?”_

_“Every single part.”_

Ghost could practically feel the groan rising in their throat, but they did their best to suppress it.  
Weighing their options, they supposed they’d prefer Zote being cooperative rather than listen to him whine and complain the whole journey down. Even if they were sure he’d get over it eventually.  
Trying to clear their mind of the unrelenting worry over the potential demise of their assorted companions, they settled back down to the ground, sighing in defeat. 

They guessed they’d be waiting for Bretta to wake up, then.

_“Aha! Victory! Yet another success for the mighty –”_

_“Stop talking.”_

Zote was _very_ offended by that, choosing to express this by turning to the sundry vessels that often trailed behind him, and detailing just how much he loathed Ghost.  
Ghost found themselves agreeing with most of his points, if they were redirected back to him.

An hour or two passed by before the bugs of Dirtmouth began to awaken. First to emerge was, interestingly enough, the old relic keeper from the City… Lemm.

The moment he opened the door to the home he had claimed, his eyes fell upon the Lord of Shades. He took one, long look, and immediately went back inside.  
Ghost supposed that was a fair reaction.

Next was Myla, which was a genuine surprise. Ghost had expected her to sleep for _much_ longer, given how long she had slaved away in the mines. They were sure to mention this as she casually passed by them, pick in hand, purely and utterly exhausted. She gave a tired blink, a stiff shrug, and offered up a possible explanation:  
“I-I always woke up e-early for work before. I-I guess it’s just second nature n-now.”  
With this, Ghost suggested she go back to sleep. She had nothing to be up so early for, anyway, seeing as there was no competition for those crystals now. She pondered this for a moment, eventually nodding in agreement, and turned back to her home to resume her sleep.

Elderbug emerged not long after, apparently forgetting all about the whole “Ghost is now a God” scenario, as he reacted with a frightened gasp at the sight of them. His memory was refreshed in a minute or two, but he still retained a sort of caution whilst he sat on the bench beside them.

As they had a mostly one-sided conversation, Ghost ignoring the many jabs that Zote just _had_ to interrupt with, the rest of the town slowly exited their respective houses. It was nice to see the town lively and populated, and Elderbug was sure to agree, though he expressed regret in taking the gentle silence for granted.  
For now hearty chuckles constantly seeped from one house. For a split moment, Ghost thought they were hearing the Collector, but as Elderbug went on to describe an old noblewoman who spoke rather condescendingly of all other bugs around her… 

Ah. Emilitia.

Ghost found themselves very eager to see the survivors, actually. Their attention always drifted away from the Elder as they heard a door open, always curious to see who would emerge. So far, the town had quite the assortment of insects:  
The original few, being Sly, Iselda, Cornifer, and Bretta… and Confessor Jiji remaining hidden in her chambers.  
Salubra had moved her shop up to the surface, made obvious by the billowing pink fog that came from underneath one of the home’s doors.  
Next to her place seemed to live the Snail Shaman, who regarded the Shade Lord with a cheery greeting, as if nothing was abnormal about this at all. In fact, he recognized who owned the body right away, without Ghost having to clarify anything. Huh.

A certain thief could be seen peeking out of her home, absolutely _terrified_ by the sight of Ghost –

 _“Your glaring_ might _be scaring her, if I had to guess.”_

_“She stole my geo.”_

_“Tragic.”_

_“Can you believe that?”_ It was Ghost’s turn to speak to the voidlings, asking politely for their attention. _“He says ‘Never Forgive,’ but when you don’t forgive something, suddenly you are petty and beneath him.”_

_“Hoy! Do not speak of me as if I’m not here! Furthermore, it hardly counts when—”_

_“It’s honestly rather hypocritical, if I do say so myself…”_

_“Are you listening to me?! Stop this slander at once!”_

_“What a shame it is that he cannot better himself, for his pride will never allow it…”_

_“How dare—?!”_

_“Let us pray for him.”_

_“I will end you!”_

_“Oh, great Gods above, spare his soul…”_

As Ghost finished their joke of a sermon for Zote, which he did not appreciate in the slightest, they found themselves noting which bugs were missing.  
Some made sense. The Midwife had no reason to leave Deepnest, neither did the Mask Maker. Though, Ghost supposed for the former may make an appearance eventually, once food ran low down there.  
The Fools of the Colosseum were likely still locked in their never-ending sparring matches, unaffected by the presence of Infection nor lack thereof.  
None of the Nailmasters were present, presumably remaining in their huts throughout the underground. The Nailsmith was probably with Sheo, as that’s where Ghost had last seen him. They hoped those two were doing well… Oh, perhaps Ghost should stop by Mato’s at some point? It had been a while since they had stopped by their supposed adoptive father.  
The Hunter still prowled the ruins, doubtlessly. After all, _someone_ had to make sure that everything in that place was hunted, even if most of the creatures were dead now.  
Bardoon had no way of getting there, Willoh had seemed unbothered by Infection, the Fluke Hermit _hardly_ seemed the type for civilization, Tuk was possibly still searching for whomever they were looking for, and…

...Mournfully, Ghost realized that many of their friends were deceased, or otherwise MIA.

Tiso, Cloth, the Seer…

…Ghost held a small hope for Quirrel, but… The sight of his nail unattended by the Blue Lake’s shore left little to hope for.

_“We’re still missing someone.”_

_“Hm? Have you someone in mind?”_

_“Eugh. Not that I wish to be reacquainted with her, but the red-cloaked one. Whatsername.”_

Oh.

_“Hornet? You’re… Huh. You’re right. Where’s she gone?”_

_“Hmph. If we’re lucky, she’ll have perished, and we’ll come across her pitiful remains whilst we scour the dreadful place for your charms.”_

Well, that was certainly aggressive.

_“…Okay, so, you and Hornet have some sort of history, I’m assuming?”_

_“What? No, I just know of our Father’s relation to her, and I hold a fair amount of disdain for anyone related to Him.”_

_“…You’re related to Him, Zote.”_

_“Yes, and?”_

_“Is your self-esteem in jeopardy?”_

_“Wha—?! No!”_

_“Oh, I get it now… It’s His attention you sought, wasn’t it?”_

_“Silence. Silence yourself. No more words! Your voice is grating and irritating. I hate it.”_

That’s that mystery solved, anyway. How interesting. Ghost would have to pry into that more, later.

Finally, Bretta came stepping out of her home, nervously wringing her own hands. Oddly enough, she didn’t seem tired at all. As if she had been awake for quite some time before she decided to face the world again. Huh. Wonder what she was up to...  
She was hesitant to approach the Lord of Shades, which was reasonable enough, but they tried their hardest to give her a patient smile as they waved her over.

“Bretta.” They started, having somewhat learned to control the magnitude of their voice after their talk with Elderbug. “Need something from you.”

In an instant, Bretta was completely flustered, her face turning all different shades of red. “N-Need something… fr-from me? Wh…Wh-what d-do you n-need?”

 _“I’ve never understood why she reacts that way.”_ Zote grumbled. _“Anytime I’d ask anything of her, it was the same thing. Half the time, she’d refuse to make eye contact with me! What disrespect.”_

_“…Zote… You… You realize she had a crush on you, right?”_

_“A what?”_

Yeah, no, maybe we don’t explain that one to Zote. That would only inflate his ego tenfold.

“Zote’s nail. Life-Destroyer.”

_“Life-ENDER! How dare you forsake her name?!”_

“O-Oh! Y-Yes, o-of course!” Bretta quickly rushed back into her house, leaving an impatient Zote to start hopping back and forth through the void. 

When she returned, battered wooden nail in hand, Zote practically leapt out of the void trying to get to it. Ghost had no idea why this thing held so much value to him, but if it kept him happy for their journey through Hallownest, they supposed that was good enough for them. They tentatively reached out a claw to take it from her, careful not to frighten her by moving too fast – though that clearly wasn’t working, as she was trembling terribly – and effortlessly plucked it from her grasp. Closing their hand around it, the nail was absorbed into the void, and Zote barreled past the other interested vessels to make _sure_ that it never left his side again.

_“Yes! Life-Ender is mine again at last!”_

_“I hope you’re happy.”_

_“Very much so, yes. Carry on with your imbecilic little quest now! I couldn’t care less for it.”_

Ghost rolled their eyes at that, thanking Bretta for her help. She stumbled over her words, trying to say something in response, but gave up in the end, dashing back inside her house without another (coherent) word.

With that sorted, Ghost took a deep breath, and let Elderbug know that they would be back soon. They simply had some… matters to attend to. He nodded them off, giving a wave and a wish of good luck, and that was the last Ghost saw of Dirtmouth before they descended into the well again.

They’d start with the Junk Pit. If not there, they would search every nook and cranny of this ruined kingdom for their charms…  
Their dance with the Nightmare King would _not_ go to waste. Not after the _agony_ that it had been.

 _“Grubs!”_ A voice suddenly screamed, pulling Ghost’s attention elsewhere. The sheer _will_ of the Collector had them turning toward the grub dens, and they had to forcibly keep themselves in place.

_“No. We’re not going to see the grubs, Collector.”_

_“No! No, my loves! I have to protect them! They are not safe! In danger, in danger, I tell you – not safe! Not safe! They were safe, I had them safe… You! You put them in danger! You freed them, you set them free, you let them loose… Into the wrong hands, into the wrong place! They’re no longer safe, no longer, no longer! What have you done?!”_

_“The grubs are fine. They’re safe with their father.”_

_“Nooo! No, no, no no nonononono!”_

The Collector was even _more_ distraught at that, crying out in desperation as they tried to tear their way toward the grubs. Was this what Ghost was going to have to deal with now, too?

_“Collector. Listen. They’re fine. They’re metamorphosing now.”_

Zote, his shade completely wrapped around Life-Ender, decided now was a great time to start talking again. _“You can’t reason with them, I’ve tried.”_

_“Your version of ‘trying’ is just telling them to shut up.”_

_“It’s trying, is it not?”_

Ghost gave a heavy sigh, once again having to appease part of the void if they wished to continue. Even if they didn’t, and they carried on their way with the Collector’s wailing, the group of the vessels that cared for the Collector’s stories would be _very_ upset with them.

The half of void that believed every word out of Zote’s mouth was _already_ quite peeved with their assertions against _him_ , so… 

The last thing Ghost needed was the void rebelling against them.

Ho, boy.

Ghost started their detour toward the grub homes, hearing a satisfied cheer from the Collector… and an entourage of vessels who did the same, very excited to see the grubs.

They were going to be disappointed, but… if it’s what they wanted.

Let’s get this over with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY so this is purely written for fun!! I'm not gonna go nearly as hard as I went into,, say, CoGR, which I'm definitely writing chapter 48 of hahahah trust me I swear it's in progress,,, buT I'm!! Listen! I'm stressed. I'm tired! I want something NOT angst for like two minutes!  
> so here's this again! Because as I said, y'all enabled me. so here i am
> 
> UH I'm on a bit of a time crunch here so I'll come back around and edit this nonsense later! But! Yeah! Welcome back. how long will this be? i dunno. do I have literally any plan at all? no sir. is that what makes it fun because it's dangerous? yes! I am Going To Write Myself Into A Hole. and you cannot stop me! HA


	2. Breathing Water is a Bad Idea, Generally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the gang breathed some water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was writing this and the next chapter of cogr at the same time, just jumping between the two documents. it was like a funny race to see which would get done first
> 
> this won
> 
> With some accidental angst because GOD I JUST. I'm such a USELESS author, can't go without writing angst for two damn minutes, I'm going to commit a HATE CRIME against MYSELF.  
> It's not that bad tho,, I don't think

All things considered; Ghost had expected a worse reaction.

_“That’s—”_

_“No! NononoNONONO!”_

_“—Mildly disturbing!”_

_“Noooooo!!!”_

_“No cocoon? No chrysalis? He just…?”_

_“Evidently,”_ Ghost answered, their wholly exhausted gaze fixed on the Grubfather’s rotund body. The old grub was slumbering contentedly, something Ghost wished _they_ were doing, leaving the grubs that now occupied his stomach to writhe without a care in the world. _“The grubs are fine, I think. Their father is sacrificing himself for them, just in an, uh… interesting fashion.”_

Zote, in all his chivalry, responded with an “ew.”

The vessels, on the other hand, were generally confused by the concept, as most had reacted with shrill cries and horrified shouts of _“he ATE them?”_ before Ghost had a chance to quell their hysteria.  
To be fair, Ghost had a very similar reaction when they first saw this. They could _vividly_ remember coming to visit, hoping to see the grubs one last time before they faced the Gods of Hallownest, only to be faced with… well, what was initially a _mortifying_ sight, until they realized what was taking place.

Most of the vessels took Ghost’s explanation and settled. A few still didn’t understand, panicking over the potentially digested grubs, while a significant bunch muttered to themselves, their tones laced with resentment. Not specifically for the grubs’ father, but toward their own; for they doubted the Pale King would have sacrificed himself for _them.  
_ Ghost shared that sentiment but chose not to vocalize it.  
Zote, on the other hand, was _sure_ to reference his flawless precept, _“Beware the Jealousy of Fathers,”_ and spout nonsense about the supposed evil intentions of _all_ fathers, including the Grubfather. Ghost also chose not to respond to that.

What was _impossible_ to ignore was the outbursts of the Collector.

_“No, no, no! I was protecting them! I was saving them, I was- Gone! Gone, gone forever now! They’re gone, they’ve left me, they’ve left this world forever! I’ve failed them! I’ve failed my loves!”_

_“You haven’t failed them, Collector.”_ Ghost tried, already knowing it was pointless.

_“Oh, then why are they dead and gone? Lost from this world, lost from the living! Gone, gone gone gone gone!”_

_“They’re not dead. They’re metamorp--”_

_“Lies! Lies, lies! They were safe with me! Safe! I kept them safe, I had them safe! They couldn’t leave, wouldn’t leave, they’d never leave me- Danger, no more! No danger could reach them, they could reach no danger! Safe! Safe until you freed them! You freed them, you- look what’s happened! Oh, gone forever!”_

Their fretting was causing the vessels around them to grow paranoid, some simply repeating what the Collector was saying with more emphasis. They had somehow created their own personal echo chamber out of impressionable kids… and echo it certainly did.  
Ghost was at a complete loss of what to do, as nothing they said made much of a difference. They thought about asking Zote for his help, as he was far better at being loud and commanding, before disregarding that idea entirely. They would _not_ be crawling to Zote for help, as what a stab into their pride _that_ would be.

Instead, they opted to turn around, dragging themselves out of the grubs’ cavern and back into the Crossroads. Perhaps the sight is what ailed the children and Collector, fueling their unease… If they couldn’t see it anymore, maybe they would forget about it, or find themselves distracted.  
This was certainly optimistic of Ghost, and perhaps foolishly so, but there wasn’t much to be done about it regardless. They couldn’t stay there, and the damage had already been done. They had to keep going.

The Collector’s alarm fell to tears, as Ghost could hear them break down into mournful sobs. Of course, Ghost felt awful - if the Collector _truly_ believed that they were protecting the grubs, and now believed their efforts to be for naught… that had to be devastating for them. Their accompanying vessels did their best to comfort them, mumbling apologies and even hugging the failed kingsmould… Now “failed” in more ways than one.

_“If I’m understanding this correctly—”_

_“You don’t need to add anything, Zote.”_

_“What? Am I forbidden from simply sharing my observations?”_

_“Yes.”_

One.

Two.

 _“So, they captured these grubs,_ held _them captive in tightly sealed jars - leaving me to only imagine how difficult breathing was - and now they’re horribly distraught over the supposed ‘death’ of these creatures? That they essentially attempted to suffocate?”_

_“I could’ve sworn I said you were forbidden from speaking.”_

_“You did. I found your rules to be arbitrary, so I chose to disobey them,”_ Zote spoke matter-of-factly, sure to add, _“That’s Precept Forty, ‘Obey No Law But Your Own’”_ to the poor children who nodded sagely behind him, as if that made perfect sense. _“Now, may I comment on the absurdity of the lunatic’s mindset?”_

_“No.”_

Beat.

_“You’re going to anyway, aren’t you?”_

_“It doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense! Were they not trying to end the pitiful things’ lives?”_

_“No. They thought they were protecting them. This isn’t difficult to comprehend.”_

_“Pardon me, then, for having a different understanding of common sense. If you want to protect something, why choose to ultimately kill it by placing it in a_ jar _?”_

_“I don’t think they understood that would kill them.”_

_“Then they’re nothing but a fool!”_

_“If calling them names makes you feel better, Zote, do it where they can’t hear you, at least.”_

_“I find that difficult, given this place’s most aggravating echo… and general lack of privacy, seeing as we can read one another’s minds.”_

Ghost descended further through the Forgotten Crossroads, allowing the void to flow freely. Hardly anything was alive down there after the Infection had run its course, so they didn’t fear accidentally drowning any poor bugs with void. The remnants of the infectious masses and vines had decayed and dulled, leaving nothing but the serene blues that the Crossroads had to offer… Something Ghost greatly appreciated as a contrast to their buzzing mind. The creatures that once roamed this place had long perished without the Infection sustaining them; their bodies left littering the ground, and their legs beginning to curl.  
They were just about to respond to Zote, growing quite irritated with his incessant need to be impolite, when they passed by a deceased tiktik.

They thought nothing of it, but the Collector did a complete 180. Their tears dried, their sorrow vanished, and they leapt up in place, pointing excitedly to the tiktik’s corpse.  
Apparently, they were oblivious to how unlively it was.

_“Ah! Ah! Those creatures! I know of them, yes! I’ve saved many, saved plenty!”_

_“Tiktiks?”_ Ghost enquired, taking any opportunity to get the Collector’s mind off the grubs. 

_“Yes, yes! Those spiky spiky things, nuisances, terrible nuisances!”_ Fondly, the Collector recalled all the painful experiences they had with capturing tiktiks, listing off all the ways they’d been poked and prodded by their spiny exoskeletons. Ghost let out a relieved sigh, feeling the unease of the vessels melt away as they gathered around the Collector, intently listening to their stories.

 _“Well, that’ll keep_ them _occupied, then,”_ Zote huffed. _“In the meantime, I shall continue explaining my precepts to— Hoy!”_  
Much to Zote’s dismay, most of the vessels that previously hung around him had floated beside the Collector, joining the growing crowd of fascinated children.

 _“Aw. Look at that. Isn’t that adorable?”_ Ghost couldn’t help but laugh at Zote’s expense as they located the elevator to the City of Tears, choosing to simply launch themselves down the elevator shaft.

_“They’ve abandoned me, the horde of traitors!”_

_“They merely find the Collector’s rambling superior to yours.”_

_“Impossible! My prece- I don’t ramble!”_ Zote objected, hopping back and forth between what to be offended over before deciding to just be generally offended.

_“Maybe if you started sharing anything worthwhile, they’d be more inclined to listen.”_

_“Well, then!”_ The self-proclaimed knight ended up sitting himself down right there, absolutely seething. _“You’re not busy, so I suppose_ you’ll _have to hear all about my precepts, won’t you?”_

 _“There’s—”_ Ghost started, cutting themselves off as they hit the bottom of the elevator shaft. They crawled up and out of that room, heading into the City of Tears once again. _“—There’s really no need for that. We share a mind, remember? I already – most upsettingly – know all of your precepts by heart.”_

_“Hmph. Sounds like an excuse to me. Though I can’t imagine why you would make excuses, as everyone else is more than happy to soak up my brilliant advice!”_

_“Bugs tend to not like being lectured.”_

_“How fortunate, then, that we’re not bugs!”_

And with that, the precepts began. Ah, well. Ghost had made a valiant effort.

* * *

See, Ghost had a theory.

Traversing the City of Tears was undoubtably the easiest way to reach the Royal Waterways, which would subsequently lead them back to the Junk Pit, but not for the reason some may think.  
Before their Godhood, Ghost got into the Waterways by opening a hatch; inserting a key into a mechanism opened it right up, leaving them to hop down into the bright green sewers with reckless abandon. This is where they were first introduced to flukes, and they could still remember the terrible slurping sounds.

The only positive memory of that place consisted of their battle with the Dung Defender. What a _fun_ fight that had been, and Ogrim had been so jovial throughout! They should pay him a visit after they stop by the Junk Pit. Perhaps they’ll even stop by Isma’s Grove, just to thank her again for her saving tear.  
Even if she wouldn’t be able to hear their thanks. It’s the thought that counts.

At any rate, their plan this time around was different. They could easily squeeze through that hatch again, seeing as the void could take on just about any shape – one of the positives to consisting of a liquid-like substance – but Ghost had an _idea._

Likely a terrible idea, but one they were willing to try. After all, what’s the chances of a God being able to _drown?_

_“Precept Forty-Four, ‘You Cannot Breathe W-‘ Hey! Hold on for just a moment!”_

_“Yes, Zote?”_

_“Are you not listening to me?! Water is an unbreathable substance! You can’t just go crashing into the city’s gutters hoping for the best!”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because—Are you serious?! I shouldn’t have to explain this!”_

_“No, no, go ahead,”_ Ghost teased, having already descended through the City’s entry building, completely disregarding all the elevators. Constantly hitting those levers would _not_ be something Ghost missed. Now, they stared down into the dark waters between the city’s collapsed streets, fully intending to dive down into them. _“I don’t see how this could possibly be a bad idea.”_

 _“Ghost, by the Wyrm, if you drown, and we’re all forced to drown with you, it’s_ you _who I’ll be haunting as a spirit. I will torment you for the rest of eternity.”_

Ghost only shrugged. _“Oh, so nothing new, then.”_

With that, they plunged themselves into the sewage water, letting the void consume the entirety of it as they sank into its depths. As they suspected, they weren’t drowning. The void had no reason to breathe, so no water even seeped into the mass of darkness. They were completely fine.

Ghost could understand why Zote would be paranoid, though. In their vessel forms, their shades still occupied the bodies of something living; something with a need to breathe, something that _could_ drown. Hence why Ghost had never tried this method of travel beforehand.

_“Ta-da! Not drowning. Here, watch this.”_

Just to be cocky, the Shade Lord opened their mouth, letting water pass through their mandibles. Not a single drop of it made its way into the void.

 _“Alright, alright, I got it! Stop that immediately!”_ Much to Ghost’s surprise, Zote almost sounded frightened. He must’ve had a bad experience with water at some point. Being surrounded by it was making him _extremely_ nervous.  
That would explain the precept.

Ghost complied, shutting their jaws and continuing downward, until they made it into the open expanse of the waterways. They broke free of the water, crashing down onto the old paths they used to run across. They were saddened by the sight of deceased pillflips, but they hardly graced the flukes’ corpses with a glance.  
Good riddance.

_“Never do that again.”_

_“Sorry. Didn’t know it would scare you.”_

_“Scare me?!”_ Any anxiety was replaced by anger in an instant. _“As if I would be scared of anything! The Mighty Zote feels nothing of fear!”_

_“Oh? Then you won’t mind if I return to the water, so to get to the Junk Pit easier?”_

_“No! I-I mean, yes! I would mind! Ghost, don’t, I will find a way to hijack this body so fast.”_

Ghost only chuckled, not taking that as a serious threat for even a second.

While it was quite a shame that they couldn’t continue that way, as it _would_ make the process of getting down into the Junk Pit go smoother, they didn’t really mind the detour. Plus, Zote’s apparent phobia of water was keeping him quiet.  
Unintentionally, Ghost then found themselves in Zote’s memories, and felt the nonexistent breath be knocked out of them. They could hear splashing, sputtering, and their head began to throb. They felt as though they were choking, could _taste_ the water in their mouth, and it nearly toppled them over. They yanked themselves out of that, gasping like they had lived through it, and received not a hint of sympathy from Zote.  
…In fact, he wasn’t too happy about his head being pried into. Made obvious by how he muttered a colorful lot of curses and tried to close himself off completely.

Alright, fine. They wouldn’t pick on Zote for this one. Though they doubted he would be as considerate for them.

While they traveled through the sewers, they were sure to keep tabs on the void’s occupants. All seemed relatively at ease, with no major complaints from anyone but Zote.  
Broken was more active now, though not amongst the other vessels. Instead, they spent most of their time near the Shade Lord’s eyes, taking in the sights of Hallownest. They hadn’t gotten very far from the Abyss, and now they were enraptured by all that they had missed out on. More than once had Ghost caught them pointing at something inquisitively, prompting an explanation that Ghost was sure to provide.  
When Ghost ended up saying “Hwurmp” aloud, Broken burst into a fit of giggles. Ghost had to agree. Those were amusing little creatures when they were alive.

Curiously enough, a kingsmould eventually came forward and instigated a polite conversation with Ghost.  
While distracting them from their goal, they couldn’t help but be interested in what the former guard had to say. It had started with the kingsmould asking for orders, as they were uncertain what their directive was whilst part of the void.

_“You don’t have one. You’re free of your old duties now.”_

_“Haven’t any orders?”_ The kingsmould repeated, seemingly baffled by that response. _“Are you certain? Plenty of my brethren have occupied themselves. They attend to the children, they patrol, they protect. I had assumed you had given them an order to do so.”_

_“No, I haven’t. They took that upon themselves.”_

_“Hm,”_ They hummed, their attention shifting to a group of vessels for a moment. Two or three small shades were being watched over by the former Hollow Knight, who was finding themselves entertained by the story one of them had come up with. Hollow felt a gaze on them, and looked up, going stiff at the sight of the kingsmould. They went stolid, steeling themselves and erasing all emotion from their mind.

Guilt conquered the kingsmould’s senses, and they forced their gaze away. They sighed with remorse, resuming their talk with Ghost… now with a touch of woe. _“I was one of the King’s personal guards. I’m sure you knew that already.”_

_“I wasn’t aware, no.”_

_“It was awful,”_ They spoke bluntly, beginning to reminisce over their past. _“Another and I were set to follow Him about His palace, about the City, about His kingdom… When He had the Pure Vessel alongside Him, we were told to keep a watchful eye on them.”_

_“For their protection?”_

_“No,”_ The kingsmould’s tone turned sour and bitter. _“Well, I’m sure that’s what He told others. But we were meant to alert Him of anything ‘out of place.’ If we picked up on a feeling, an emotion, even the slightest inclination of thought, we reported to Him._

 _“You see, we weren’t made to be devoid of thought and feeling, as you were. There was little purpose for such a meticulous process when it came to guards. We were made to be obedient, to be speak little, and to poise our lethal weapons for His sake. However, being void, the King thought we would know when something was ‘amiss’ with the Pure Vessel, as we were connected through what made us. With what little conscious I was granted, I felt…_ bad _for the Pure one. Never did I report anything strange. I knew they weren’t ‘hollow’ as the Pale King so touted they were, but Root be damned if I was going to say anything about it.”_

Ghost was bewildered, any former prejudice for kingsmoulds beginning to melt away. Instead, their own semblance of guilt began to creep into their mind, reminding them of all the kingsmould they had slain in the White Palace. They were only doing as told…

 _“Oh, don’t worry about it,”_ The kingsmould spoke up, their voice nothing but understanding. _“I didn’t take it personally.”_

_“I still feel bad.”_

_“Don’t. We were trapped in His dream world, anyway. Freeing us was the best thing you could’ve done. If anything, I should be apologizing to you. I hope that swipe didn’t hurt you too badly.”_

Ghost awkwardly laughed, finally finding themselves above the Junk Pit. Miraculously, they hadn’t gotten lost during this conversation. _“Oh, no, of course not. You only put a dent in my mask.”_

They both shared a laugh over that, and then Ghost leapt down into the Junk Pit, falling straight into a great expanse of water with a near-explosive splash. This sent waves of sewage in all different directions and earned another disgusted interjection of _“eugh”_ from Zote.

Carefully, now, Ghost dragged themselves up onto the mountain of debris, focusing intently. Their sharp gaze flitted through the piles of garbage, looking for _anything_ that resembled their charm case. Or their maps. Or even their old nail.  
Their eyes caught sight of the Godseeker’s old sarcophagus, and another twinge of regret sparked in them. They hadn’t meant what they had done to her, having lost all control during their transformation into the Lord of Shades, but still…

They supposed a coffin being all that was left of her was rather fitting.

Ghost began tirelessly searching through every bit of rubbish, pushing every scrap aside and digging around the general area, _hoping_ to find anything that belonged to them. If not their charms, then at least _something_ that proved their items still existed.

 _“Isn’t there a possibility that you’ve absorbed it all?”_ Zote suddenly quipped, managing to startle Ghost after how long he’d been quiet for.

_“You mean when I became the Shade Lord? I’ve already checked. None of my equipment is in the void.”_

_“Hrmm. I feel as though diligently combing through trash isn’t going to get you much of anywhere.”_

_“Fantastic insight. Thank you so much.”_

_“You’re welcome.”_

He clearly hadn’t picked up on their sarcasm, but maybe that was a good thing. They didn’t want to hear him shouting and bickering all while they searched for—

Oh! Their nail!

Bubbling with excitement, Ghost flicked away an old geo register and delicately picked up their old nail between their claws. No doubt about it. Their pure nail, intricately carved and perfectly sculpted by the Nailsmith. How horrendous it would have been if they lost that forever, after how proud the Nailsmith was of it! They’d have never forgiven themselves.

They let it sink into the void without thinking, and what a mistake that had been. Without a moment’s hesitation, Zote picked up the pure nail, choosing to inspect it and decide its worthiness.

 _“That’s not yours.”_ Ghost tried not to let any venom reveal itself in their tone. They were _not_ too thrilled about the notion of Zote holding onto their nail, even if, by the looks of it, he was completely disinterested in doing such a thing.

_“And it’s not going to be. This thing is far too gaudy for my tastes. All flashy and detailed… Pah! I doubt your enemies would care about how ‘pretty’ you’ve made your nail to be.”_

_“I’d like it if you didn’t insult the Nailsmith’s work.”_

_“Perhaps he should craft finer nails, then.”_

Oh, Ghost was going to pummel Zote for that one, once they figured out how to go about doing that.

_“You wield a nail of shellwood, Zote. You have no room to talk.”_

_“Life-Ender is the best nail there is! She’s simple, she’s deadly… and I crafted her_ myself! _How dare you disrespect her?!”_

_“I dare to after you disrespected mine.”_

_“Fine! I won’t waste my time on your stupidly ostentatious nail.”_

With that, he tossed it aside, only for Hollow to rush over and pick it up. At least _they_ understood the worth of such a well-tended-to weapon.  
…Or they just wanted to keep it out of the hands of the younger vessels, who flocked toward the shiny new object in the void, wide eyes sparkling with mischief.

After an hour or so of searching, Ghost was losing hope. Finding their nail was amazing, for that meant their items _were_ in Hallownest _somewhere,_ but…  
Not finding anything else in the Junk Pit filled them with sorrow. Those charms could be _anywhere._ They could still be here in the piles of rubble, buried further beneath after their digging and toiling. This was starting to look hopeless.

Well… Then again, it’s not as if they had much else to be doing. Without the weight of Hallownest’s future pressing down on their back the longer the Infection reigned, they weren’t on any time constraints. That they knew of.  
Spending thousands of years looking for _charms_ didn’t sound all that appealing, though. Imagine if the kingdom of Hallownest was rebuilt, eons into the future. The locals would ask, _“what’s that God up to again?”_ only for one of the original bunch to respond, _“somethin’ about charms? Been searchin’ for those things for decades now.”  
_ What a disappointing legacy that would be.

 _No longer am I the Lord of Shades,_ Ghost thought to themselves. _I am the Lord of Rummaging. God of Scouring. I will spend centuries sifting through garbage for charms. Fear me and my might as a ferocious deity. Yes, I am the one that struck down the Radiance, please help me find my Grimmchild._

Wait a second.

Ghost paused, blinking once or twice. Something about that sounded… familiar. As if the description of someone endlessly combing through garbage brought forth a memory in them.

Wasn’t there someone that did that? Someone _in_ the Waterways?

Ah, well. Ghost supposed they couldn’t claim that title then.

_Hold on—_

_“She might have my charms!”_ Ghost said aloud, receiving a puzzled “who?” from a good portion of the void’s inhabitants.  
It was just a possibility, but it beat spending their time as a god in the junk pit. They could at _least_ check, right? So to cross it off the list in case they’re wrong?

That sounded good enough to them.

They turned away from the junk pit, lurching toward the faraway wall and scaling up again.

_“And where are we off to now?”_

_“Just going to pay someone a visit.”_

Hmm.

Perhaps it’d be a good idea to gather up some geo on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fundamental difference between nosk zote and vessel zote:  
>  **zote here:** Perhaps you should consider not breathing  
>  **zote in CoGR:** Perhaps **_i_ ** should consider not breathing
> 
> OKAY the next thing I'll post is CoGR chapter I promise, I swear
> 
> In the meantime, [I have a tumblr now,](https://ratcandy.tumblr.com/) so come and bully me relentlessly


	3. Debit or Credit?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got much longer than intended.  
> In which I get to write "mmmnngnhh" like 30 different times
> 
> Anyway, surprise Hornet interlude! Then we return to our funny friends and their quest for charms, which surprisingly goes very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's MY fic and _I_ get to make Tuk an important character
> 
> Oh boy! Here comes Hornet! I wonder how she's feeling about this whole situation
> 
> Forewarnin' ya that I barely re-read over this  
> since this fic is my jokey fun fic that I'm writing just to faff around, I'm not. putting as much like. diligent effort into having it Well Written(tm) i guess hgskdjhgkjh I dunno, I just know that CoGR chapters take me a lot longer to sit there and reread and such  
> while this I jsut. "haha funny bugs say funny things go brrr" and then hit Post

“I am not here to bargain with you, scavenger. I am here for what you’ve stolen.”

“Mnnghh! I’m no thief, everything I find belongs to me! The water brought it to me, and therefore it is mine. If you aren’t here for food, mmnghh… then leave.”

Hornet was absolutely exasperated.

The past day and night had been nothing but one puzzling thing after another, leaving Hornet uncharacteristically dumbfounded and wholly baffled. The passage of time in of itself, once she realized it was happening, was a whole other conundrum that she had no idea how to handle.

The stasis had been lifted.   
Somehow.

The eternal night before this, Hornet had simply been lying in wait outside the Black Egg. Infection surged and bubbled around her with a thick, toxic fog that desperately raked at her mind; trying to pry its way inside. She steeled herself, refusing to succumb. She’s made it this long. It would be weak of her to give up now.  
Patiently awaiting the arrival of the new vessel to continue this vicious cycle, it took Hornet a moment to notice when the Infection just…

Died.

She could remember how she stood there in disbelief, staring at the tainted vines of sickness as they shriveled and withered. The tiniest voice in the back of her mind that once whispered of power and light had fallen silent. She blinked multiple times, whipping her head about in confusion. Had the little ghost noiselessly passed her by, entering through the egg without her noticing? That was improbable, im _possible_ \- She would’ve _seen_ them come in even if the sound of their footsteps didn’t give them away.

Furthermore, their usurpation of their birth-cursed sibling would not have eliminated the Infection outright. It would have only prolonged its growth, continued Hallownest’s stasis…

Not… whatever this was.

She idled there for Wyrm knows how long, uncertain what to do. The Infection had supposedly perished, but… What exactly did that entail? Would all the insects return to normal? Or shall they all fall to their final resting places? Would the Infection rise again someday when some poor fool’s memories revived it? Were they safe? Was it truly over?

…Where in the world was the Ghost of Hallownest?

When Hornet had finally broken out of her dazed confusion, she turned her attention toward the entrance of the Black Egg. Questions infiltrated her mind, almost all relating to the status of the one that was suspended inside, but she was hesitant to enter. The Black Egg was meant to contain beings of void, and those that lacked that emptiness could not remain inside for long. It would drain any ordinary bug of their energy… reducing them to nothing but a lifeless husk within a mere hour.

Well… if she were fast enough, perhaps she would survive. She needn’t stay for very long; she just had to check on the condition of the Hollow Knight. Had the Infection truly been eradicated, perhaps she could break their chains? What little time she and them had been given together as younglings was cherished in her memories, and if she could finally slash through their restraints and set them free…

After weighing her options, choosing between a potential unfortunate demise and childlike sentimentality, she ultimately decided to rush inside. She had nothing left to lose at this point, anyway, with her mother’s death looming over her.  
Light dissipated around her, the only illumination provided by pillars of pure soul; the only proof of a floor existing beneath her was the sound of her feet hitting the ground. She tightly clutched her needle, prepared for a battle if need be, but hoping that it wouldn’t come to that.

Go in, check on Hollow, hopefully free them, get out - that was her plan.

Simple.

Once she reached the Hollow Knight’s chamber, however, already tilting her head back so to glimpse their suspended form-

...They had completely vanished.

Gone. Disappeared.

What’s worse, it wasn’t as if they’d never been there. Proof of their existence still littered the empty room. Hornet came skidding to a halt, shock flashing across her features at what lay before her.

The Hollow Knight’s discarded nail, their torn and tattered cloak… even the chains that once kept them restrained. All of it was there, solemnly lying on the Black Egg’s floor, with the owner nowhere in sight.

And if she had any doubts, her eyes landed on another item the vessel had left behind: Their mask, lying face-down on the ground. Turning it over revealed a splintering crack going through one of the eyes, with the slightest hints of Infection still staining the outer edges.   
Had the death of the Infection brought about the demise of the Hollow Knight? Had their form grown so dependent on it, that with its erasure, they just… evaporated?

Hornet slowly stepped away from the mask, instead kneeling before the Pure Vessel’s old cloak and gently touching the fabric. It was incredibly worn, stained, battered and deathly cold. As if the warmth the Infection would have provided simply… ceased to exist.

Hornet hadn’t the _faintest_ idea what any of this meant.

What was going _on?_

Since that point, Hornet has been on the lookout for _two_ missing vessels. One of which was at their full height, after several successful molts, therefore being extraordinarily tall and nigh impossible to miss.

So why was she having such difficulty finding _either_ of them? Ghost she could maybe understand, as they were damn elusive – but it’s not as if the taller of the two could have just gotten up and walked away. Hornet would’ve noticed _that_ , at least.  
For some odd reason, though, she couldn’t find a trace of them.  
She searched around the Black Egg, hastily escaping once she felt oncoming fatigue. She glided through the Crossroads, scanning over the dead wildlife with a touch of sorrow… but still coming up squat. She hoisted herself up the well into the town up above, only to be faced with a surge of confusion and hysteria.

Apparently, one of their townsfolk had _also_ disappeared, only leaving behind his cloak, nail, and mask… just as Hollow had. Hornet questioned the one who allegedly witnessed it, a girl by the name of Bretta, but wasn’t given a clear answer. Bretta had just “blinked, and then he was gone.”  
How unusual.

  
Hornet went through Greenpath next, then into the Queen’s Gardens… only to find herself gasping at the sight of a familiar dark substance.

_Void._

It was quickly flooding the place, conquering the beautiful greenery that once flourished there. How fortunate for the bugs of the Gardens that they had already perished with the Infection, or else they would have been forced to choke on void within seconds of their minds being freed.  
Without another moment, Hornet zipped to higher ground, watching as the level of void continued to rise.   
Okay, something _weird_ was happening here.

Hornet wasn’t dull, though. She could make the necessary connection. Something was happening with the void itself, and that likely led to the disappearance of both vessels… seeing as it’s what they were created out of.

For a moment, she worried that the rising void sea would be her doom, as it showed no signs of receding. It climbed without mercy, capturing corpses and drowning the vegetation. Hornet hadn’t suffered the effects of void before, but she wasn’t entirely keen on finding out just how bad it was firsthand.  
Thankfully, it _did_ pull back at some point, slowly and steadily draining back to wherever it had come from. Hornet fully intended to follow it to see where it would lead her, but then stopped to reason with herself. The void likely came from the Abyss, as that was its source. If she were going to get any answers, perhaps that would be the first place to check.

If void sludge was just up and slinking about anyway, she was sure she’d find it again.

The Abyss gave her more questions than answers.

While the remains of thousands of failed vessels still lingered, clear as day, the void itself was just… gone.

She hadn’t even needed to descend to realize it.   
The void had a very noticeable _feel_ to it. You _knew_ when it was nearby. It was as if its ubiety unlocked another sense, nullifying all others with its pull. A suffocation, an _emptiness;_ one that is somehow felt throughout you even if you are not comprised of it.  
Hence why containing it needed something equally as draining.  
Hornet never found out what her father had constructed the Black Egg out of, but she never had a chance to ask.

…That feel was absent, now, leaving the Abyss nothing but a tomb with stagnant air.

Out of some semblance of self-preservation, Hornet did not leap down into the depths of the Abyss. Regardless of whether the void was around or not, the possibility of persisting puddles or tendrils was enough to convince her _not_ to do anything rash.

Instead, she made her way out of that wretched place, sure to curse her father’s name for good measure, before she continued her Great Search of Hallownest.  
If she were unable to find either vessel, she’d come across that void again, surely. From there she’d follow it, and maybe, just maybe… answers would reveal themselves.

But life just refuses to be easy for the protector-princess of Hallownest.

Whilst in the kingdom’s Waterways, something else got her attention. A hulking scavenger, rummaging through piles upon piles of debris and rubbish. A massive rucksack was tied shut and fastened to her back, containing a plethora of items that the traveler had picked up on her journeys.  
Hornet gave her a passing glance at first, acknowledging her but intending to move onward, when a gleam caught her eye.

A _familiar_ gleam.

Within an instant, Hornet sent her needle flying past the scavenger, greatly frightening the bigger insect and forcing her to stumble backward. Hornet was in front of this poor fool in seconds, yanking her needle out of a rubbish pile and pointing it threateningly at the individual before her.

“Scavenger, you possess something that does not belong to you,” Hornet spoke coldly and concisely, maintaining unwavering eye contact. “Upon your back rests a case of precious charms, and it would do you good to return them to their rightful owner. Whereabouts did you find these?”

The forager held Hornet’s stare, glancing once to the sharp blade that was pointed at her before she decided to speak.

“Mnngh… Whatever I carry, it is of my findings. Whatever I find belongs to me. I do not take what isn’t mine.”

Hornet’s voice only grew more agitated. “Your philosophy is flawed and paints you as nothing short of a thief. What you hold there is not yours, regardless of whether you found it unattended or not. You are expected to return it immediately.”

The scavenger apparently didn’t like that assertion.

And here’s where Hornet is now, uselessly bickering with whom she believed to be a crook. Tuk, as Hornet learned her name to be, was not at all interested in handing over the charms. She offered “food,” which turned out to be rancid eggs, but Hornet expressed her distaste for such things and only demanded the scavenger cooperate.  
Which wasn’t working, but she was sure going to try.

Both were growing equally frustrated; gauging by the way they snapped at one another, tones laced with irritation. Hornet was just about ready to toss her needle up above and fly on by, snatching the charm case as she whisked past. Clearly, negotiating wasn’t working, and Tuk wasn’t showing any aggressive advances that would signal an attack… so Hornet had little options.

Until, _finally,_ after an hour of back-and-forth,

“Mnnnnggghhh! Fine, fine! Mngh, geo. If you have geo, I will give you the case.”

Hornet almost bit back at that, about to protest that there was no _reason_ for a transaction to be happening when Tuk didn’t _own_ those charms, but she just gave in. Pushing any further wouldn’t help matters. Hornet knew those charms to be the Ghost’s, and vaguely understood their powerful effects and value. The sooner she had them back, the better.

Tuk refused to give any insight as to where these charms were found, but seeing as the “water” brought it to her, Hornet was left choosing between the rest of the waterways and the City. That gave her a place to start once this was all situated properly, at least.

The only problem was Hornet’s lack of geo. She hadn’t a reason to be collecting the currency, as she had no need to frequent merchants – given that most had only shown up recently, and they had little that was useful to her anyway – so that left her pockets empty. She swore to come back, ending her farewell with a mild threat:

“If you are not here when I return, I will hunt you down, and I will not be willing to barter further.”

Before she rushed off again, preparing herself to spend the rest of the night scouring for pocket change.

* * *

_“Any context would be lovely.”_

_“That’s unfortunate.”_

_“Must you act so childish?! Come, now, this is ridiculous. You suddenly start, exclaim something about a mysterious ‘she,’ and now you won’t fill us in on who you’re prowling around for. I think we’re entitled to a little bit of context.”_

_“But then what’s the fun of the surprise?”_

_“Ghost, it pains me to tell you this – not really, I only say that for the sake of your fragile mind – but I don’t believe anyone in this void even knows of who you’re dragging us to. This surprise will be neither fun nor interesting.”_

_“We share a consciousness. If you want to spoil it so bad, look for yourself.”_

_“I am. I haven’t the foggiest idea who that is.”_

_“Then suffer.”_

Zote gave a _very_ loud groan as he chose to give up, sinking back down to his place in the void and grumbling obscenities to himself. One curse was said just a bit too loudly, as a child near him ended up repeating it.  
Zote only noticed once he received a death glare from the Hollow Knight, one that promised _violence._ He shut himself up right quick, though not before scolding the vessel for echoing his words.

This left that poor child very confused.

Ghost, on the other hand, knew exactly what they were doing. They just had to find her.

If anyone in these Waterways would have their charms, it would be Tuk. Ghost remembered her rather fondly, as they would frequently return to her just to see if she had found whatever it was she was looking for. The answer always seemed to be a no, seeing as her thoughts kept waiting for an apology from someone.  
Ghost would also buy an egg or two from her whenever they visited. Just to do something nice.

By the look of the bag she always carried, Ghost had always considered her as a watered-down version of the Collector. Instead of priding herself on her knowledge of the many creatures of Hallownest or going out of her way to trap each and every one of them, she hoarded trinkets and artifacts… Much like Lemm, honestly. Though less for their history, and more for the sake of… owning a lot.  
Either way, amassing items rather than living beings was far safer for everyone involved, Ghost would argue.

Finding her now, however, proved to be a hassle. She wasn’t where Ghost had seen her last, so they were forced to go dragging themselves through the Waterways, looking underneath every pipe and all throughout the maze of sewers. The void’s chit-chat had quieted to a soft buzz, with the only exceptions being the Collector, a few hyperactive or curious vessels, and, of course, Zote.   
So, at least Ghost wasn’t suffering from a migraine anymore! That’s always positive.

The decrease in noise gave Ghost a moment to think clearly, as they wondered the whereabouts of… a multitude of things. Not only were their charms MIA, but their maps were likely ruined - they’d have to apologize to Cornifer for that - their lumafly lantern was probably smashed, their mask was surely floating in sewage somewhere, and…

Oh. Huh.

 _“I wonder where the Dream Nail’s gone…”_ Ghost muttered absently, tossing another fluke corpse into the water.

_“The what?”_

_“The—”_ Ghost paused, humming thoughtfully. Did they _want_ to explain the Dream Nail to Zote? It’s not as if he could get his hands on it now, but… _“Actually, I’m not quite sure how to describe it to you.”_

_“Pah! You doubt my comprehension skills?”_

_“Would you like me to answer that honestly?”_

Zote was wholly unamused. 

_“Regardless,”_ Ghost continued, cutting Zote off before he could mention Precept Twenty. They may as well let him know; after all, what damage could he possibly do as part of the void? _“The Dream Nail was… A gift, I suppose, given to me by the last remnants of the old moth tribe. It… It allowed me to see into the minds of bugs, and even spar against the cognitive versions of them.”_

_“Ah, so prying into the privacy of others has always been a hobby of yours.”_

_“Oh, come on. As if you wouldn’t do the same thing if it were in your hands.”_

_“Of course not! I am an honorable and respectful knight. I wouldn’t go around snooping in what doesn’t concern me.”_

_“I find that hard to believe.”_

_“Then find it so! It won’t change what’s true.”_

Ghost rolled their eyes, though perked up at the sight of a rancid eggshell. That may very well be a sign of Tuk nearby if they’re optimistic. They followed the trail, stopping just once to scoop their claws through a deposit of geo. They’d garnered quite a bit thus far, but they had no idea how much Tuk would want for the charms. May as well get as much as possible.

_“It also allowed me to see ghosts, you know.”_

_“You’ve gone mad.”_

_“Miraculously, no, I’ve retained my sanity despite your terrible voice.”_

_“Hah! The disdain is mutual, cur!”_

_“At any rate, no, I wasn’t crazy - I could find the dwelling souls of deceased bugs, and they would talk to me. Sometimes I could fight them, too. They proved to be quite a challenge.”_

_“You’re sure you weren’t vividly hallucinating?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Hmph. Well, I’d find it rather pathetic – though amusing – if you were defeated by someone who was already dead.”_

_“It pains me to tell you this,”_ Ghost began, unable to stifle amusement from seeping into their voice. _“Mm, no, it really doesn’t, but for your fragile mind…”_

Zote cut them off with a loud “ay!” before they could finish, going off on them for _daring_ to use his own words against him. The absolute _nerve_ , they had such _audacity_ to do such awful things.   
Ghost only laughed, which proved to anger Zote further. Oh boy, they were in for it now.

With the ambient serenity of Zote’s shouting and yelling, Ghost kept up their search for Tuk. If all else failed, they could always stop by Ogrim. He was near enough, and Ghost would just be overjoyed to visit him again; even if they would have a lot of explaining to do regarding their new form.  
Plus, Tuk might’ve passed through that area. They doubted it, considering most of what was in that direction was covered in acid, but one can never be too sure.

The memory of acid caused a select few vessels to wince and flinch as they recalled their own unfortunate experiences with the boiling substance. One in particular began to _sob,_ forcing Ghost to stop and check on them. They took a gander at their memories, only to be inflicted with a searing agony – _oh, Gods above_ – as the poor thing had clearly fallen in Kingdom’s Edge, landing straight into a painful fate below…   
Ghost just _had_ to comfort them, setting aside all further searching until this vessel was calmed down. What a ghastly thing to live through. Even if their body was disintegrated, their shade lived on, horrifically traumatized by the event that melted away their shell.

And so Ghost lied there on the pipes of the sewers, momentarily turning away from reality as they went to tend to their sibling.

_“And furthermore—!”_

_“Zote. You can stop now.”_

_“And why should I do such a thing?”_

_“Because this is important. This vessel needs help, and I need you to be quiet. Your noise isn’t helping.”_

_“I never claimed it was.”_

_“Pretend you care about people other than yourself for two minutes. That’s all I ask.”_

_“…Hmph. Fine, then I shall wait for a different, equitably inopportune moment to continue my beratement of you. Be as you were.”_

Ghost’s temptation to respond with a single word, “petty,” was very difficult to ignore. Knowing it would only set Zote off again, though, they chose to bite their tongue, resting there in the middle of the Waterways as they and a few other vessels consoled the crying one.

Ghost didn’t even notice as time passed them by. They lost themselves in the void, breaking away from the vessel they were soothing once they felt that they were alright. Instead of reentering the real world, they floated about in the endless nothingness, drifting through the expanse of void with a strange sense of ease.  
Perhaps they were just growing used to the void and beginning to appreciate the feeling of unity between them and the vessels. Having traveled alone for their whole life, only occasionally meeting other bugs on their journeys, the change of now having a constant presence with them was… alleviating, in its own way. Even if there were _thousands_ of presences with them.  
They wouldn’t deny that it felt crowded. If they were the claustrophobic type, this would be wholly unbearable. Constricting, smothering…  
Surprisingly, a wingsmould shared in that sentiment, flitting about and trying to find the most open part of the void as possible. Ghost could only guess they missed their wings and their old “freedom” in the skies and towers of the White Palace. They extended their empathy to them, receiving nothing but a soft buzz in return.

Even Zote, while a bother, a major pain, and a blight on society, was easier to talk with now. Sure, he had his moments still, as to be expected – Ghost had lost count of the number of times the “knight” had repeated his own name – but it wasn’t as… bad, now. Maybe.  
It’s also possible that Ghost was just trying to see the best in everyone and was just sorta _hoping_ for that change to be happening.

Hollow was _slowly_ warming up to the situation. Either that, or they just weren’t catching themselves as often when they showed signs of amusement, interest, or irritation. The latter of which was always directed at Zote, who Hollow exhibited nothing but negative thoughts toward, but seeing as Zote was yet to comment on it…   
Ghost wondered, likely foolishly, if he was aware of Hollow’s insecurities. Surely, if it were anyone else being so harsh on him in their minds, he would call them out; demand a fight, or something.  
But he hadn’t with Hollow. There’s no way he didn’t know about it, shared mind and all… so why hadn’t he started anything?  
Ghost knew he didn’t like Hollow, per se, as he considered their successful ascension as “abandonment” and “treachery,” but did he possibly respect their hesitancy to think and emote? Or did he just fear the outcome of a confrontation?   
After all, picking a fight with Hollow for their _thoughts,_ which they “shouldn’t be having,” would… not end well.  
Hm.

“Mnnghh…?”

Well, no, that’s not the kind of noise Ghost made. It was more like a curious hum, maybe a quiet sigh, a little interested chirp, even –

“What… What are you, creature?”

That’s a weird thing for someone in the void to be asking. They’re all the same substance, and there are limited options for what each entity could possibly be. Unless they were referring to the Collector, Ghost supposed… Though they were pretty sure that they were a former kingsmould –

“Are you… mngnhh… alive?”

 _“We’re all alive?”_ Ghost answered, puzzled. _“I don’t believe voidlings can die once they’re in the void—”_

 _“Who are you talking to?”_ Zote responded, sounding just as confused.

_“Uncertain. Can’t find where the voice is coming from.”_

_“Are you…?”_ The knight stopped to shoo away a child that he had been quizzing on his precepts. He had been training that one in his moral code for a while, and he was very pleased at their signs of progress. They could remember up to precept ten! Fantastic. Anyway, _“Ahem, are you serious?”_

_“Yes. Do you know who’s talking?”_

_“I may, I may not.”_

_“Don’t start doing riddles now,”_ Ghost was regretting thinking that Zote might be changing. _“If you know who’s asking questions, just tell me. They seem lost.”_

_“If I absolutely had to guess, I’d say they might not be of void if they’re asking such questions about it.”_

_“You can’t be in the void if you’re not made of it.”_

_“Very good!”_ Zote congratulated them, his tone brimming with sarcasm. _“All glory to you for your leap forth in intelligence! Think it through for a moment, I’ve got faith in that dull mind of yours.”_

What—?

Oh.

 _“And they’ve got it!”_ Zote began clapping, a few children joining in. Bastard.

_“One day, Zote, I’m going to launch you out of the void and through the stratosphere.”_

_“I’d feel threatened if I knew what that was.”_

Truth be told, Ghost had no idea what that was, either. They had just heard Lemm saying something similar once.

Regardless, they took the very condescendingly rude hint and gently peeled away, returning to reality. Violently ripping themselves out of it, as they had done previously, was horrendously dizzying and _not_ worth it. Slow and steady worked best.  
When they leisurely blinked each of their eyes, allowing their vision to adjust, they found themselves staring straight into the eyes of another bug.

They almost said “oh hi” aloud, out of habit of something similar crossing their mind anytime they met a new bug, until their head caught up and processed who was in front of them.

Oh, perfect! Ghost lit up, recognition flashing in their eyes.   
It was Tuk!

Who, of course, was at least mildly scared of Ghost, judging by the way her eyes widened and she was sent staggering backwards. They quickly – but not fast enough to frighten her more – held their hands up defensively as if they were surrendering. Their head carefully lifted, and they tried to look as approachable as possible.  
…You know, as much as a behemoth void monster-God can seem “approachable” and “friendly.”

“Tuk,” They tried, keeping their voice as low as possible. “Not here to hurt you.”

Her fear turned to bewilderment in an instant. “Mnnghh?! How… How do you know my name?”

“Met before. Used to buy eggs- _food_ from you all the time. Gave you lots of geo.”

She stared, reasonably astonished and _incredibly_ perplexed. Ghost could almost see the way her thoughts progressed by the expression on her face, as her uncertainty gradually fell to clarity. Albeit a reluctant clarity.

“Mmmmnnngh… How can I be sure it’s you? You could be tricking me.”

That’s a very good question, actually. They had little means of proving that.

_“Your nail?”_

_“She might just think I’ve stolen it.”_

_“Hrm. Has she told you something that only you would know, per chance?”_

_“I know she’s looking for someone, but she didn’t say that aloud to me.”_

_“How—? Oh, right, your dream hail or what have you.”_

_“Dream Nail.”_

_“Irrelevant.”_

Ghost just pushed Zote away, hastily trying to come up with a way to persuade Tuk into believing they were who they claimed to be. It made sense for her to be skeptical, and they appreciated it, but…  
Uh… Oh, hold on, that might work.

“Once came to you smelling foul. Smelling like a friend. Mutual friend. You gave me a free egg. Told me to thank him the next I saw him.”

That worked. Tuk’s expression brightened, and she nodded affirmatively. “Mngh, yes, I remember you. Have you spoken to him again?”

“Not yet. Haven’t had an opportunity,” Ghost gestured to themselves, giving an awkward chuckle. “I will. I promise.”

 _“Don’t.”_ Ghost warned, feeling Zote about to pipe up.

_“I didn’t say anything!”_

_“You were going to.”_

_“If you knew I was going to say something, then you knew_ what _I was about to say. And you should realize your mistakes!”_

_“I’m not accepting a promise, though. I’m the one promising. And I intend to keep it.”_

_“I realize that. I’m calling_ her _a fool for trusting you and scolding_ you _for being so cruel as to make a promise.”_

_“Just… stop talking.”_

Tuk looked Ghost up and down, mumbling in understanding. As much as she could understand whatever she was looking at, anyway. She chose not to ask any questions, for she doubted it would make a lot of sense to her no matter the explanation she was provided.

“Mnnngh… what are you in the Waterways for? Do you search for more food? I will give you some… if you have geo.”

“No, thank you,” Ghost politely declined. “Here to ask if you’ve found something of mine. Lost important case of charms.”

“Mngh…” Tuk suddenly seemed tentative, as if she had to think about how to respond to that one. Her gaze darted left to right, and then her eyes sparked with suspicion. “Were you sent by her?”

“Her?” Ghost questioned, tilting their head to the side.

“Someone came searching for charms… mngh… tried to steal the case I found. The waters brought it to me, so I claimed it, but she tried to take it away.”

Who could that have been? The only other ‘she’ Ghost knew of in the Waterways was the Fluke Hermit… or Isma, but they didn’t think she was very… mobile, now. The hermit didn’t seem the type for thievery, choosing to stay isolated with her sisters and gla-gla’ing about her mother, but… Ghost guessed they couldn’t be sure on that one.

How _ever…_

“You found a case?”

Tuk seemed wary again. “…Yes.”

“May I see it?... Might be mine. The one I lost.”

“Mnngh… it’s mine, though. I found it.”

“…Tuk.”

Seeming disgruntled, the large bug gave in. She slid her rucksack off of her back, letting it crash onto the ground… The action causing two or three pieces of her collection to go bouncing along the pipes and into the water.   
Speaking of collections, the Collector seemed rather interested in this turn of events, halting whatever their last stream of consciousness was in order to focus on the situation at hand. While more interested in living creatures, they seemed impressed by the scavenger’s assorted belongings, pointing now and again to various items they found to be intriguing as Tuk nonchalantly tossed them aside.

Tuk then pulled a case out from underneath a rope, bringing it around the bag and presenting it to Ghost. “Mnngh… see? Sparkly thing, looks very valuable.”

 _That’s it!_ That’s it, that’s it! That’s their charm case! Oh, wonderful! This messy adventure of theirs could come to an end at last.

“Yes! That’s it! You found it!”

“…Mnnnghh… The waters found it.”

“May I have it back?” Ghost decided to shoot their shot, receiving the answer they expected to receive:

“No.”

Alright then. “Geo.”

“…How much?”

Ghost took a moment to wrangle all their collected geo out of the void, bringing it into their claws and dumping the lot of it onto the ground in front of them. It was a solid amount, given what little deposits there were left to find in the waterways.

Tuk peered down at the geo, mentally counting it up. Ghost really hoped that it was enough, for the idea of _another_ tedious side quest sounded really aggravating. The void seemed to agree, as most the vessels began expressing that they wanted to go back “home,” to Dirtmouth.  
How quickly they deemed it so… Ghost supposed it was more like home than the Abyss ever was.

Fortunately, Tuk seemed satisfied. She agreed to trade the case for the geo, holding it out for Ghost to take. They carefully took it from her hands, gleefully anticipating their reunion with the Grimmchild, and thanked the scavenger over and over again. Tuk only gave a “mmnngh” as her answer, gathering up the geo that was scattered along the pipes.   
Ghost bid her farewell, thanking her one last time as they took off, wanting to find a safer location to let the Grimmchild free. It would probably be a bad idea to set them loose next to someone so flammable, seeing the material Tuk’s bag was made of.

After a bit of maneuvering around pipes and streams of water, Ghost settled in an open area… a place where hwurmps used to mindlessly float around. The thought of which elicited another giggle from Broken.  
The vessels were totally excited, telling Ghost to hurry up and show them their new friend. They wanted so badly to meet someone in their age range that wasn’t void, and them given an opportunity to do so had them teeming with elation. Even Zote was becoming impatient, which wasn’t really anything new, and demanding that Ghost stop wasting his time.

_“Alright, alright, calm down, everyone. I’ll bring him out now.”_

As cautiously and delicately as possible, Ghost used their massive claws to unlatch the case. They then flicked off the top of it, revealing all their charms… Sparkling like new. Ghost gave a sigh of relief, checking over to make sure none were missi—

…

_“Oh, you’re kidding me.”_

_“What? What’s the hold up?”_

_“It’s not here.”_

_“What’s not there?”_

Ghost traced the space where the Grimmchild charm always snugly fit, feeling their heart drop at the emptiness of it.

_“The Grimmchild charm is missing.”_

* * *

“What do you _mean_ you don’t have the charms anymore?!”

“Mmnngh! I gave them away for geo! They no longer belong to me.”

“So, you mean to tell me, scavenger, that I went through all that trouble of scrounging around for geo just so you could pawn the charm case off on someone else?”

“Mngh. Yes.”

“…

“You know what? I don’t have time for this. Farewell, thief. I shall return and skewer you later.”

In flash of red, she was gone.

“Mnnghh… The thief calls me a thief…

“… _Mmrnnnrnggh.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got IDEAS.   
> and by that I mean I have one (1) idea in mind, and then from there I have no idea what I'll do oops  
> But stick around for more shenanigans! because they are coming
> 
> ANYway, here's this, now I get to write the next funny zote fic chapter, let's get it boys


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